The Ecstasy of Grief
by M. Jade
Summary: A trip back to Sunnydale brings complications for Angel and Cordelia


The Ecstasy of Grief

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Summary: A trip back to Sunnydale brings complications for Angel and Cordelia   
Rating: PG-13 for sensuality   
If you have comments or suggestions, email me at _jaderozegirl@yahoo.com_   
Pairing: A/C   
Feedback: It's all good, as long as it's constructive   
Spoilers: "The Gift" and "There's No Place Like Plrtz Glrb"   
Disclaimers: Survey says… It's not mine! The rights go to the Whedon family!   
Distribution: My site, The Fire and Ice Archive, Data Annex of Fanfiction, fanfiction.net, the A/C list, any others ask. I'll probably say yes   
Notes: Assume Angel and company knew in time to attend the funeral   
Great Big Thanks: Sam, it's almost scary how well we work together. Your ideas and input made this story possible, so a little gratitude is in order on my part   


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"Passion is the source of our finest moments. The joy of love, the clarity of hatred, the ecstasy of grief." -- Angelus, from the "Buffy" episode "Passion"   


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"Look at version grief point o." Lorne greeted Angel as he walked into an empty Caritas. His words were teasing, but his tone was serious as he looked at the vampire. The green-skinned demon was resetting the tables around the bar area, which had been knocked down during their exit from the dimension of Pylea. Angel could still see the as of yet unrepaired damage his car had made to the club's bar. "How bad is it, amigo?" he asked. 

"Bad," Angel assured him. Lorne indicated a table by the bar as he grabbed an undamaged bottle from the shelves behind the bar and two classes that had been setting by it, then joined Angel at the table and poured both of them a drink. 

"So what's going on?" 

"It's Buffy. She's dead," was Angel's surly reply as he stared at the glass in front of him. The drink Lorne had been holding only made it midway to his mouth, and his hand stopped in mid-air as his red eyes took in the look on Angel's face. "After we made it back to the Hyperion, an old friend met us in the lobby. She told us." 

"That is one tough break, sugar," Lorne said, his tone taking on a sad edge for the vampire's loss. "Anything I can do?" 

"I want to go to her funeral," Angel whispered, looking down at the table. "I need to know how it's done." Lorne sighed as he put his drink down. 

"Let me guess – there's sunlight involved here? Daytime only type of deal?" Angel nodded, and Lorne grabbed a note pad and pen from the pocket of his jacket. "She must have been very special my friend." 

"You could say that." Lorne finished writing down whatever the message was and folded the piece of paper, slipping his pen back in his pocket, then looked back to Angel. 

"Before I give you this, Angel Cakes, let's be serious here. You're not playing with a full deck right about now, and I don't think it would be wise to go solo on this one." Angel nodded. 

"Wesley and Cordelia are coming with me," the vampire answered. Lorne relented and placed the piece of paper down on the table and slid it towards Angel. He accepted it and opened it to read, then looked back to Lorne with utter confusion. 

"A spell to make me human? This can't be possible," Angel said with disbelief. 

"Angel, just because something seems impossible doesn't mean it isn't the real thing. Do you really think that whoever found this spell would allow it to be common knowledge among you vampire types? That's not how it works." 

"But it can reverse the effects of being a vampire?" Lorne nodded. 

"It's a sort of hyper-advanced healing spell. Rarely used because it can be extremely unpredictable, and I mean that in a messy way, but trust me, it works," the Host explained. 

"How long does it last?" 

"Twenty-four glorious, sun-filled hours. Then its back to a liquid diet, permanently. It's a one shot deal. It can't be cast on the same vampire twice, and if you do it wrong, it's your ass. Healing's a tricky thing, even at it's best. You could end up with a permanent case of the mumps or worse. Be careful." Angel put the paper in the pocket of his duster. 

"That's all I need." With that, Angel rose from his seat and left the club, leaving Lorne shaking his head.   


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By eight o'clock the next morning, Wesley and Cordelia were in the lobby of the hotel, Wesley wearing a pair of dark pants and shirt, Cordelia wearing a modestly cut black blouse and dark skirt, waiting as Angel came down the main stairs carrying a bowl, the ingredients Lorne had instructed him to gather, and a dirty-looking book. He placed them all on the main desk, as Cordelia and Wesley looked on. 

"Are you sure this is wise, Angel? You don't know what kind of side-effects this spell could have..." Wesley advised him. 

"Yeah, do you know what you're doing?" Cordelia offered. Angel didn't look at them as he began to mix the herbs he had gathered the night before. 

"I found the book this came out of while I was out last night. It'll work," Angel assured him with a grim tone. Wesley picked the book up off the desk and turned it to the page Angel had marked. The ex-Watcher intently read the passage, then looked up to Angel. 

"This is amazing. This level of healing… is unbelievable. Of course, the spell is self-terminating. It can only heal any one person one time." Wesley explained, looking to Angel and Cordelia. 

"That's all I need Wesley," Angel commented darkly as he continued to mix ingredients. 

"Angel, are you sure you want to do this? A spell of this nature can be highly unpredictable, and if something should go awry during the first attempt, there's no replicating the spell itself…" Angel looked up to his friend. 

"I'm doing this Wesley." He looked back down to his task and after a few moments, had all the ingredients in the proper order. After taking a deep breath and reciting a few phrases in Latin, there was a sharp, momentary burst of light, and then it was over. Angel stood behind the desk, momentarily stunned, as he put his hand to his chest. Then he took a deep breath. 

"Angel," Cordelia squeaked, rushing over to him. 

"I'm breathing," Angel croaked. "And I'm pretty sure my heart is beating." Cordelia was stunned as she placed her hand over his and felt a detectable heart rhythm. 

"Oh my God," Cordelia whispered. "It worked." Wesley stayed on the other side of the desk, but a look of shock and confusion crossed his face. 

"Truly amazing Angel," Wesley managed. Angel looked over to Cordelia, with an unusual look on his face. 

"I'm hungry," Angel managed, the look on his face only mildly surprised. "Do we have any food around here?" Cordelia and Wesley shook their heads in response. 

"We can get you anything you'd like along the way," Wesley reminded him. 

"Then let's go," Angel said, grabbing his duster. After a few moments of thought, he put the duster back. "I don't really need this do I?" he asked sheepishly. 

"No," Cordelia replied softly. "I don't think you do." He followed Wesley and Cordelia out to his car, marveling as he felt the day's sunlight warm his skin. It was a curious feeling, similar to what he felt during his stay in Pylea, but not quite the same. His mind didn't linger on the new sensations of being human, however. Angle had a purpose, and he was more focused on what lay ahead of him than what had happened to him. After a stop to get food for Angel, in which he also discovered the American institution of the hamburger and french fry and remembered once again how much he loved chocolate, they were heading towards Sunnydale, all three silent as they pondered the reason for their journey. 

"I can't believe she's dead," Cordelia blurted out halfway through the trip. "This is Buffy we're talking about. Ms. 'I've survived' five years running. I guess I just never envisioned myself going to her funeral," she added in a small, fragile voice. 

"None of us did," Angel reminded her. "Even though we knew it would happen sometime, we never allowed ourselves to think about it." Cordelia had been sitting next to him in the passenger seat, and when she looked over the look on his face nearly broke her heart. The pain and hurt that had etched itself across his features spoke volumes about his state of mind. Buffy was almost certainly the only woman he had ever really loved, and saying good-bye to her the first time, when he left for LA, was hard enough. At least Angel knew Buffy was still okay then. This would be his second good-bye, and this time it was forever. 

"You okay," Cordelia whispered. 

"I will be," Angel answered softly, but Cordy wasn't quite as assured by him as she would have liked to be, but she let it pass, figuring that Angel was dealing in his own way, and that the trip itself was part of that. The rest of the drive was spent in relative silence, no one willing to dwell on the day's events. They made it to the funeral home twenty minutes before the service was to begin. As they entered the lobby, they met Giles and Dawn, standing by the door to the room the service was to be held in. The look that Giles gave Angel said it all. 

"My God," the Englishman managed. "Angel, I… I… I can't believe you're here." Angel went over and shook his hand as he looked over to an expressionless Dawn, then back again. 

"I wouldn't miss this Giles. I had to be able to say good-bye to her," Angel explained grimly. 

"How?" Giles asked, stunned. 

"Spell. It'll wear off soon enough, but it'll get me through today." Angel leaned over and gave Dawn a hug. "How you doing, Dawnie?" 

"Fine," the dark-haired teen answered, then turned to face Giles. "I'm going to the bathroom," she informed him, heading off down the hall without waiting for his reply. 

"How's she holding up," Cordelia asked, and Giles shrugged in response. 

"As well as can be expected, given the circumstances. She blames herself for what happened to Buffy, and the rest of us are doing our best to convince her otherwise. Hopefully we'll get through to her before she takes that guilt too far," he explained. 

"I'm sure Dawn will find her own way to cope when given time," Wesley assured him, and Giles nodded. Wesley nodded to the others as they made their way into the room and found seats. As they waited for the service to begin, they could see Xander and Anya staring at Angel from the entrance, whispering to Giles, who was apparently explaining Angel's presence. The couple came in and sat down, but neither spoke to Angel nor the others. The scene was repeated when Willow arrived with a shy-looking blonde that Angel assumed was her girlfriend. Willow did give Angel a hug as she came in and introduced her companion as Tara. The young woman greeted Angel, Wesley, and Cordelia as cordially as could be expected given the awkwardness of the meeting. After giving a quick and polite greeting to Welsey and Cordy, Willow and Tara sat down themselves. They were joined a few minutes later by Giles and Dawn as they all waited to begin. 

"Thank you," the official began as he came up before the others gathered about the room. "We are all here today to remember a remarkable young woman, Buffy Summers." Angel didn't think he could stand it. Cordelia reached out and took his hand as the memorial went on, neither one of them taking in much of what was said. Angel tried to focus on the warm presence beside him. Various images of the beautiful Slayer he had loved passed through his mind as he tried vainly to pay attention to what was going on. He didn't even dare look towards the casket, afraid that he would lose it if he did. Being here made everything so… final. It was amazing how he had acknowledged that before, knew it in some way, but now it was real. No more whens or whys. It was all placed right before him. After some time, Cordelia nudged him back to reality. 

"It's over," she whispered, as Angel looked over to find the others exiting the room. "They're ready for the gravesite service. Do you think you're up to it?" she asked gently, looking over to him with compassion. He wasn't even sure how he had gotten through the service. 

"Yeah. I have to see this through, Cordy," he told her. Cordelia and Wesley nodded as they rose to leave. As they began to exit the room, Angel looked over to Cordelia and nodded. He walked over to the casket, Cordelia close behind him. He stood beside the casket, placing his hand on the edge, staring into the face of the Slayer he had loved. Behind him, Cordelia placed her hand around his shoulders, offering him her support. Angel didn't say anything, but stayed a few moments, looking at Buffy for one last moment. He left silently, still holding onto Cordelia's hand. The drive to the cemetery was utterly silent, no one willing to say a word about what was happening. They pulled up a short way from the site and walked over to join the others as they gathered around. Dawn stood up front while Giles stood behind her with Xander, Anya, Willow, and Tara close behind. Angel kept a little distance to be comfortable, but no one was in much of a mood to care. Angel did catch a glimpse of Spike, off in some dark corner to try to watch the service. He wondered why the bleached blonde vampire had shown up, but thought better of it when he saw the look on his face. He had seen that look before and knew it well. Spike was hurting, too. Maybe just as much as he was. Of course, it didn't matter. He could think of it later and wonder why, but he wasn't going to worry about it then. 

"You okay," Cordy asked softly, taking his hand. 

"It's just … hard," Angel answered softly as the official began the final part of the service. The young man's words of comfort meant little as he went on. All Angel could do was stare at the coffin and think that this was it. This was the last he'd see of his beloved Buffy. Cordelia kept holding his arm all the way through, offering what little comfort she could. As the service ended and everyone was dismissed, Angel stayed where he was, staring at Buffy's headstone, Cordelia beside him. A few moments, Xander and Anya came over to greet him. 

"Hey, Angel," Xander greeted him evenly, dropping any hint of animosity he may have once had towards Angel. "I'm glad you were able to come. She would have wanted you here." Angel looked over, his eyes displaying a sort of sad gratitude. 

"Thank you, Xander." He gave Angel a final clap on the back and left, leaving with Anya. The others gave their thanks as well as the mourners all trickled away from the site and left. Finally, Angel, Wesley, and Cordelia were the only ones left. They wanted to give Angel what time they could, so Wesley and Cordelia waited patiently as he looked on. After some time, Angel took out a single red rose and laid it along Buffy's grave. 

"Are you ready," Cordelia asked tentatively after Angel had placed the flower. 

"I think so," Angel assured her. "I did what I came to do. We should go while we have the chance." As they piled into Angel's car and drove on towards LA in the afternoon sun, Angel was still haunted by the images of the day. He kept seeing Buffy's headstone, so cold a gray. A final reminder of a remarkable woman, and he could barely stand it. It was late afternoon by the time they made it back to the Hyperion, and Angel was still brooding. It was all too much. He never thought he'd have to say good-bye to Buffy again, much less ever prepared for it. He wasn't ready for it to be final. As they strolled into the lobby, Angel was still in a pensive mood. 

"Well, I believe I'll be heading out," Wesley announced. 

"Thanks for coming," Angel offered. "It means a lot." Wesley gave him a pointed look. 

"She was my Slayer, for what it's worth, and you are my friend. I couldn't think of not going." With that, he was gone. Angel looked over to Cordelia. 

"So I'll see you in the morning?" he asked. 

"What are you going to do?" she returned. 

"I'll be upstairs. Maybe I'll read a book." Cordelia sighed. 

"No, you're going to go up there and feel all sorry for yourself and brood the night away. Well, mister you're not doing it alone," his Seer said with determination. "I'm not going anywhere." 

"Suit yourself," Angel answered, heading up the main staircase to his room, Cordelia on his heels. Angel entered his room with Cordelia right behind him. He sat down in an overly stuffed chair and looked to his Seer. "You don't need to do this, Cordy. I'm fine," he insisted. Cordelia shook her head adamantly. 

"You just attended the funeral of the first, okay, only, person you have loved in two hundred plus years. That's not my definition of fine," the brunette shot back. 

"I want to be alone!" he shouted, looking at her with all the rage he could muster at that moment, but he couldn't find it to really be mad at her. "I know you're trying to help, but I don't want you here!" 

"You're being childish," Cordelia hissed. 

"You know, I don't seem to care," he said with a huff, glaring at her. 

"Maybe it's time you did, Angel. You allowed yourself to go too far with Darla and we nearly lost you because of it. Don't let Buffy's death turn into another bad situation. This time, you may not be able to come back, and we can't lose you again. I can't lose you again," she ended in a whisper, looking at Angel with a hint of desperation. A desperation he couldn't ignore. He stood up and looked into her eyes, placing his hand gently along her face, their faces inches apart. 

"You won't lose me," he assured in a soft voice. 

"You don't know that," she reminded him. "None of us do." 

"Okay, you're right, I don't, but it's not going to go that far," he insisted as he used his free hand to take hers, caressing her palm to reassure her. "I won't do that to you." 

"How do you know, Angel? How do you know that you won't go all lone warrior on us again?" 

"I've got you. I made the mistake of pushing you away when Darla came back. I know that. I won't do it again," he replied, looking into her trembling eyes. She closed them as he gently brushed an errant strand of her short hair from her eyes. 

"You hurt me so much, Angel. You hurt yourself. I don't want to see you go through that again," she whispered, gazing into his eyes. "I don't think I could do that." 

"You won't have to," he assured her. "I'm not going anywhere. I won't leave you." She closed her eyes again as he took his hand and slowly began to trace her features. First, a light brush across her forehead, along her chin, a light touch on the tip of her nose, ending in a feather-light brush of his thumb across her lips. His assault elicited a soft, satisfying moan from Cordelia. Finally, she opened her eyes and took a deep breath. 

"And I won't leave you." She looked up to him and lightly placed her hand along her face. "What are we doing?" she whispered. 

"I don't know," Angel answered. He looked into her eyes, fascinated by what he saw. And so was she. There was only one way to describe the way he was looking at her: want. 

"Angel…" she took her hand and placed it on his chest, above his heart, both of them marveling with the sensation. "I can feel your heartbeat…" 

"Maybe I don't want to be alone after all," he amended in a soft voice, still looking into her eyes. "It's just that… it hurts, Cordy. It really hurts. I knew it would have to happen someday, but I didn't realize how hard it would be to let her go. I don't think I can do it alone." Cordelia took his hand. 

"You're not," Cordelia assured him in a soothing tone. "I'm here, Angel. And I'm not going anywhere." 

"I'm not even sure I know how to do it." 

"You have take it one day at a time, otherwise it'll all seem like too much," she told him. "And never forget that you're not alone." 

"No, I'm not," he commented, still gazing into her eyes. He placed his hand along her chin and slowly descended towards her mouth for a kiss. The kiss was tentative at first, exploring in a way, but soon she was returning the kiss with a fervor she didn't even realize was there. He placed his free hand behind her head as their kiss continued to grow, demanding, begging, and pleading all at the same time. After a few lingering moments, they finally parted, looking into each other's eyes. "I can't do this alone," Angel repeated in a whisper. 

"You're not," Cordelia replied in a nearly inaudible tone, gazing into his eyes. He leaned closer to her and pressed his mouth t hers in another passionate kiss. Even more heated than the first, this kiss left both their hearts racing and wanting more. After they parted again, Cordelia looked into Angel's eyes with trepidation. "Your curse…" 

"Shhh," he hushed her, placing a light finger on her lips. "The gypsies cursed a vampire. I'm not a vampire." To emphasize the point, he placed her hand along his chest to allow her to feel his heartbeat again. 

"We shouldn't…" he cut her off by kissing her deeply, ending any protest and quieting any apprehension. As the kiss deepened, his hand snaked their was along her back to find the hem of her blouse and caressing the bare skin beneath. Cordelia took in a sharp breath at Angel's latest assault to her senses. As they parted, she raised her arms to allow him to lift the offending blouse above her head and it was discarded on the floor, leaving her in the lacy bra she had chosen to wear. "I love you, Angel," she whispered in his ear as she kissed him again.   


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As Cordelia's mind lifted from the fog of sleep the next morning, her first thought was that she had just had an incredible dream, until she opened her eyes to realize that she was not in her own apartment. She was in, in fact, still in Angel's hotel room at the Hyperion. Her second realization was that her clothes were now strewn about the floor and that she only had a bed sheet to cover herself. Oh, and Angel was lying beside her. Oh, even better. Naked Angel! She almost gave a surprised shout at the thought, but stifled the instinct. She looked over to the man beside her, startled at first, then calming down, and sighed. It had been no dream. It was all too real. She lay back on her pillow and kept gazing at Angel, her hand lightly grazing his tattooed shoulder. She had indeed stayed with him last night, and that meant that she had told Angel she loved him. And she had meant it. She knew that now. She would have done anything to ease Angel's pain, and last night was proof of that. At some point, she had fallen in love with him and never realized it. "I love you," she whispered, still looking at Angel. 

"And I love you too," Angel replied, turning to face a startled Cordelia. 

"No fair! I thought you were asleep," she retorted, giving him a look of mock-anger. 

"Well, I wasn't," Angel returned nonchalantly. 

"Last night…" she trailed off, not knowing what to say. 

"Was incredible," Angel finished. "Cordelia…" he didn't know how to tell her. "The spell…" She realized with horror what he meant. 

"You're not…" 

"No," Angel assured her with a short laugh. "I'm fine. But…" He slowly took her arm and placed it to his chest, just above his heart. It was an odd sensation, and while it didn't come as a surprise, it unnerved her not to feel anything. No breath, no heartbeat, no body warmth. 

"You're a vampire again," she whispered, stunned. 

"Just like Lorne said," Angel confirmed. 

"It's not fair," Cordelia told him with a quivering voice. "They can't take you away from me like that!" she cried, on the verge of tears. 

"The spell was never meant to be permanent," Angel reminded her. The look she gave him nearly broke his heart. 

"No! I don't care about any damn spell. Angel, I want you…" 

"But we can't. Not now," he reminded her. "Cordy, I want you too… it's just not possible now. We can't risk… I can't risk hurting you like that." 

"I know. I'm not in a demon loving mood either, but… it's not fair. First the visions, now this? The PTB really deserve to have their asses kicked. Do you think they have asses?" 

"I don't know." Angel sighed as he looked at Cordelia. "I shouldn't have … I knew it would wear off…" Cordelia shook her head. 

"Don't blame yourself. I wanted to be there for you, spell or no spell. I would have realized why. Unlike some dumb asses I know, I don't get confused when it comes to love. At least, with the spell… we got to…" she didn't finish the thought dying in her throat. 

"We'll figure something out, Cordelia. I promise you," Angel assured her. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and held her close to him, clinging to her human warmth. "We'll figure this out. Somehow."   
  


The End

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